


If You Love Me Let Me Go

by trixm



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Angst, Fake AH Crew, M/M, Relationship Issues, Sad, Sad Ending, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 17:12:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6337903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trixm/pseuds/trixm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They met the right person at the wrong time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If You Love Me Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> so, yeah. i needed to get this out of my system...sorry?

The rules were few and quite simple.

One- everyone gets a soulmark.  No exceptions.

Two- you go on your merry way until you either organically run into your soulmate or you go searching for them.

Three- when you find your soulmate you get your happily ever after together.

It was pretty self-explanatory, really.  When two people were made for each other, it would just make sense for it all to work out that way.  Sure, there were times where soulmates didn’t find each other for years, even if they were searching, but those cases were few and far between.  These couples were outliers and often seen as tragedies.

Michael wasn’t part of these sad exceptions.

Michael was twenty seven years old and he had found his soulmate two years ago by chance.  The newest sniper of Fake AH Crew just happened to have the same skull and gear on his right forearm.  It might have taken Michael an extra twenty minutes to ask his name after noticing it because his mouth had otherwise been occupied by greeting his soulmate properly, but that was another story.

Now, no one could really say ‘Michael’ without adding ‘Ray’ right behind it.  They were inseparable- a duo that caused more destruction and death than even the legendary Geoff Ramsey knew what to do with at times.  They were young and reckless and ran Los Santos under the FAHC banner.  Days were energized with too large grins and adrenaline while their nights hung sweetly under clouds of sour smoke and lit by the blue backlight of their gaming systems.

Michael couldn’t imagine another life worth living.

\---

“Hey asshole.”

“Hm?”

“Trade me your Kadabra so I can get an Alakazam.”

“Battle me for it.”

“Fuck no.  I just want to finish my Pokedex!”

“Alright, fine.  If you’re scared, we can just trade.”

“I’m not scared!”

“Mm.”

“Fuck.  Fine.  Whatever.  I’ll battle you for my goddamn Alakazam.”

“What do I get if I win?”

“I don’t fucking know!  This was your idea, you get to battle me.”

“Well _that’s_ a great prize.”

“I’ll give you part of my cut next heist.”

“…”

“ _Half_ my cut.  Fuck, Ray, can we just get this over with already?”

“I mean sure, if you really want to.”

“…Ray.  Are you seriously using a fucking Wigglytuff?”

“Well I’m sure as hell not using a Jigglypuff.”

“Are all of your Pokemon fucking pink?!”

“Nope.  I’ve got a Butterfree too!”

“Ha. You’re going down.”

“…”

“HOW DID YOUR FUCKING CHANSEY KILL MY ZAPDOS.”

“Cuz she’s the commander and the leader?”

“Fuck.”

“I’ll still trade that Alakazam if you want.”

“Thanks Ray, you’re so kind.”

“Love you too babe.”

\---

Michael was going to get himself killed.

He wasn’t sure if the sirens in his ears were from how fast he was speeding back to their rendezvous point or if they were echoes of the cops chasing Jack’s decoy.  All he knew was that he was going to get back to the others _now_ because the last thing he had heard of Ray over the com was a muffled curse and yelp of pain.

Chaos had erupted immediately after and Geoff called for B-team to come extract Ryan and Ray while he and Jack took the escape van across town to give them time to get them out of there.  Michael wasn’t sure if Ryan was also hurt, he hadn’t heard the older man go down but that was the Mad Mercenary for you, but he knew that Ray had gotten caught in the crossfire.  No one would tell him anything other than to _stick to the plan_.  For all Michael knew, Ray could have bled out on the roof he’d been stationed and at this point all Caleb would be able to do for him would be to decorate his corpse nice and pretty.

By the time he got to the designated safe house, Lindsay was already out front waiting for him.  She’d obviously been sent to try and calm him down before he went on a rage through the building to find Ray, but Michael just brushed past his best friend without a second glance.  While he’d usually never disrespect Lindsay like that, all he could think about was _Ray._   Michael’s hand subconsciously rubbed at his right forearm where their matching marks lay as he tore through the old warehouse to the office-turned-operating room.

Michael hadn’t been expecting to find Ray sitting on top of the table, fully alert and waiting for him.  It took Michael a moment to process the scene, eyes darting from Ray’s alive form to Caleb, who was stitching up what looked to be a nasty but definitely nonlethal wound to Ryan’s shoulder.  They were both alive and safe, if not a little beaten up.  It took Michael until he undressed Ray that night and covered him with uncharacteristically gentle kisses from head to toe before he believed that the worst his boyfriend suffered from was a dislocated knee.  Michael would have to thank Ryan again in the future for pushing Ray out of the way, even if it did cost him any sort of creative sex for the next few weeks.

\---

“Ray?”

“Hm?”

“What’s with you today, man.  You looked completely zoned the entire time Geoff was telling us the plan.”

“Yeah, well, you know.  It’s not like my orders are ever anything crazy.  Different roof, same mission.  Pew pew.”

“Yeah, I guess…”

“….”

“Ray?”

“Yeah?”

“You sure nothing’s up?”

“Just a little tired, I guess.”

“Too much COD last night?”

“Maybe.”

“You’d think you get enough of shooting people with what we do.”

“Yeah, well when someone starts announcing ‘headshot’ or ‘triple kill’ every time we pull a heist, maybe then I’ll stop playing.”

“Yeah right.  You wouldn’t.”

“Eh, probably not.”

“Maybe I’ll start calling it on tomorrow’s job.”

“Not really as much fun when you’re just camping on top of some office building across the street though.”

“’It’s a legitimate strategy!’ Or some shit.”

“Oh god, I’m that guy!”

“Nah, you’re doing this shit for real so you’re not some noob ass bitch.”

“I’m just your bitch, right?”

“Watch your mouth!  No one speaks about my soulmate like that!”

“Dude, you literally just called me an asshole this morning when I ate all the marshmallows out of the Lucky Charms.”

“No one except for me…bitch.”

\---

Michael was lucky.  He knew that.  He had always assumed that he and his soulmate would find each other and so he spent his youth perfecting his interests.  Because of that, Michael was one of the best shots in Los Santos and he knew more about explosives than most people with formal ballistic training.  Michael was even luckier because he never had to change his lifestyle for his soulmate.  He had always known that crime was a risky choice without knowing his soulmate first, but then there was Ray and Michael had never had to worry about it.

Ray was not only good at what he does, he was the best.  Before Ray had joined the Fake AH Crew, the gang had heard rumors of a purple-hooded, pink rifle toting youth that could take out even the most experienced of gangsters.  Geoff has sent Michael and Gavin specifically to recruit him or end him so that they wouldn’t have to worry about the kid taking any hits on their crew.  And when Geoff said ‘recruit’ he probably didn’t mean for Michael to make out with the sniper and then drag him back to base demanding that his room be made into a double, but it had worked either way.

Michael was just so used to things working out that when Ray seemed to be a bit off the few weeks after his injury, he figured that his partner just needed space.  Ray was used to privacy and alone time before joining the crew and while he typically told Michael when he needed space, Michael figured he was good enough at picking up on his cues at this point to know before he was even told. 

So he’d spent more time on bev nights with Gavin or running errands for Geoff with Ryan.  He helped Jack with the vehicles and even tried to contribute to Geoff planning some heists, although he was quickly tossed from the conference room the third time he mentioned stealing a submarine for a mobile base.  Really, Michael didn’t think it was that bad of an idea.  And while he automatically went to go tell Ray of his dastardly plot to terrorize Los Santos’s docks from underwater, Michael stopped himself and went to find Gavin instead.  At least the other lad would appreciate the idea, even if he wouldn’t find the idea of painting it yellow _fan-fucking-tastic._

It went on for weeks and after a while, Michael didn’t even notice he wasn’t spending as much time with Ray.  The younger man hung out with them when he wanted but spent the most of his time cooped up in his and Michael’s room collecting achievements like usual.  Michael still gamed with him and their interactions alone weren’t much different than usual.  So what if Ray was less than enthusiastic around the others?  Or that he didn’t offer some pop culture joke during heist planning?  Or that his com was strangely silent when Gavin ‘accidentally’ went in the back door and Ryan of all people had to fill in the ‘that’s what she said’ moment?

He just needed space.

It would all work out.

\---

“Wait, you’re seriously not coming to taco night?”

“What?  Because I’m Mexican I can’t not want tacos?”

“No, because you love tacos you can’t not want tacos.  God Ray, what’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing’s wrong with me okay!”

“Whoa, okay. Now that’s convincing.”

“Really, Michael, I’m fine.  I just don’t want tacos.”

“But everyone is going.”

“Sounds like a fiesta.”

“Not without you.”

“Michael…”

“Ray… See? I can do that too.”

“I just…I’m really close to getting this achievement, okay?  We have to be up early tomorrow and I’m sure you and Gavin are going to get wasted on margaritas like always so we need to have someone on Team Lads be functional in the morning.  Besides, the second you guys start drinking tequila you always think it’s a great idea to start fist fighting in the middle of the restaurant and we have to haul you out before they call the cops.”

“I won’t get drunk if that’s why you aren’t coming.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Sounded like it.  I mean, that’s the most I’ve gotten out of you in days.”

“I’m just tired.”

“Yeah, I know Ray.  I just… I miss you.”

“I’m right here.”

“I know.”

“…”

“Look, if you don’t want to come, that’s fine.  But you’re gonna have to stop dodging Geoff soon.  Boss keeps telling me he hasn’t seen you outside of a heist in like a month.”

“Yeah, okay.  I’ll talk to Geoff, then.”

“Okay.”

“…”

“…”

“You better get going before they come in and drag us both out.”

“Yeah…I guess you’re right.”

“…Hey Michael?”

“Yeah Ray?”

“Love you.”

“I love you too.”

\---

Michael didn’t understand it.  It didn’t make any sense.

The mark.  The meeting.  The happily ever after.  Special emphasis on phase three, because phase three was not ‘talk to your boss, who is probably the best boss in the world in regards to god-like criminal masterminds, and decide to leave your crew which happens to also mean leaving your soulmate.’  It especially wasn’t ‘leave your crew without telling anyone, including your soulmate'.

If Michael hadn’t ignored Geoff’s call…if he hadn’t gone with Ryan on a run to meet a possible new arms dealer…if he had slept in that morning snuggled close to Ray’s warmth…

So many ‘ifs’ and so many questions all swirled though Michael’s head and none of it made any sense to him because it was Ray.  His Ray.  The one who had that same damn soulmark covering half of his forearm.  The reality that he wasn’t coming back to their penthouse, to Michael, hadn’t sunk in yet because _it made no sense._

Soulmates were, by definition, two persons that were meant to be together.  Each was everything the other could ask for; there were no recorded accounts of soulmates who found each other not meshing effortlessly without something environmental fucking one of the pair up irreparably.  And Michael would swear up and down that Ray and he were perfect for each other; they completed each other.  But there must be something wrong with him, Michael couldn’t help but think, because Ray had left and he knew damn well that Ray was nothing less than perfect.

Geoff got angry at him when he asked about it.  He told him that Ray was the fucked up one and that Michael shouldn’t ask that again because he was being fucking stupid.  But Michael knew he must be lying because saying that about Ray was laughable.  Michael must be pretty messed up if he chased away his soulmate and his always blunt boss was trying to spare his feelings, or so he figured. Jack and Gavin began to give him wallowing looks and Ryan had taken it upon himself to request Michael come on all his hits for ‘backup’ although everyone knew he didn’t need it.  Michael wished they'd just tell him what was wrong with him.

Talking about the conversation that Ray had with Geoff was similarly off limits, Michael learned.  Geoff had simply said ‘dicks’ when asked what Ray had told him the first dozen or so times.  Then they had all had a bevs night on Gavin’s seemingly innocent suggestion and Geoff had drunkenly announced that what Ray had told him was fuckall about anything important and that Ray was an asshole whose name didn’t deserve to be mentioned by anyone again.  Michael had been quiet the rest of the night and sat watching the others drunkenly play Mario Kart with his left hand rubbing absently over right arm as Michael tried to figure out what was so grossly wrong with him.

\---

“Hey Ray, it’s Michael.  Geoff just made this fucking terrible joke that you quit the crew.  Ha.  Really fucking believable.  Anyway, I just finished up my meeting with Ryan and I wanted to make sure we were still on for In-N-Out and Halo tonight.  Gav texted me about bevs so maybe we’ll do some Team Lads shit or something.  Love ya, asshole.  See you later.”

“What the fuck Ray?  How the fuck do you fucking leave and not even fucking say anything?  Not even a note?  And all your shit is still here.  You better be fucking with us and just took a trip to Comic Con or something or I swear to fucking God- Ray!  UGH!  WHAT THE FUCK!”

“You’re really not coming home?  Hah, I really didn’t fucking believe it.  This is like the fifth fucking message I’ve left you so I don’t even fucking know if you’ll get all of these, but damn… I can’t believe you’d just leave like this.  Like- how- what?  Fuck it.  I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry.  I’m sorry I’m such a fuck up.  I’m sorry that I wasn’t the soulmate you wanted.  God, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me!  Geoff won’t tell me why you left.  Or what you said.  But I feel like if I just knew what’s so wrong with me… fuck.  I’m so sorry Ray.  I love you.  You’re so perfect and wonderful and you complete me.  I’m so sorry I’m not.  I wish…I thought…Fuck Ray, you deserve so much.  I’m so sorry I ruined this for you.”

“So I’m thinking you must be getting these.  I’ve left you so many at this point there is no way your mailbox wouldn’t be full if you weren’t getting these.  I don’t know why I’m still calling.  I still haven’t figured out what’s so wrong with me but I swear to you, Ray, I will.  And I’ll fix it.  And maybe one day I’ll be better and we can try again.  I’m so sorry Ray.  For everything.  For all that I wasn’t for you and for continuing to bother you even though you fucking obviously don’t want anything to do with me.  I just…fu-”

\---

Geoff and Jack had been avoiding Michael all day.  He had come into the conference room that morning looking for his DS when he noticed it.  Michael had been playing in there late last night, having taken to being anywhere but his room for the most part because it was still the way he had left the morning he went on the weapons run with Ryan, minus a certain Hispanic lying in his bed.  Michael hadn’t been prepared to walk into a hushed argument between the pair, especially not one that quieted the moment he walked in.  While they often tried not to argue in public, Michael was hardly public and he’d sat through some of Geoff and Jack's more grizzly yelling matches before so their silence while he got his game and left was unusual.

Then his schedule got switched from helping Jack fix the electricity on the new warehouse they bought downtown to helping Gavin hack into their police files for a quick cleaning of the slate, as Kdin had put it when he played messenger.  What that really meant was the Michael would have to watch Gavin do some indiscernible things on his laptop instead of actually being productive.  When he went to complain about his job assignment for the day, Geoff and Jack had mysteriously disappeared and neither were answering his texts.

By lunch, Michael had taken to throwing things at Gavin’s head, which the latter claimed was a distraction even though he had long since finished his task.  The pair of them quickly figured out that the others weren’t coming back for the meal and just ate leftovers from the fridge.  Michael expected that both the older men would continue to ghost him for the rest of the day, so when an angry slam of the door caught Michael’s attention mid Destiny raid with Gavin, he barely paid it any mind.  At least, that was until an envelope was being thrown at him from a raging Geoff and an apologetic looking Jack. Geoff yelled at him about how the letter would have been fire fodder if he had his way, something that Michael didn’t understand until he took in the scratchy handwriting on the front of the envelope.

Michael didn’t take the time to walk to few feet from the TV to his room for some privacy, instead ripping open the envelope to pull out a small note.  Gavin, being Gavin, was hovered over Michael’s shoulder with little care that he was obviously nosing into Michael’s business.  Michael’s heart thundered in the way only Ray could cause it to, eyes trying too hard to focus on the sparse words lining the page.

_Michael,_

_I’m sorry I left the way I did._   
_But I’m not sorry I left._   
_This life with Fake AH was never for me and I need to find a life that makes me happy._

_That being said, being with you was the best experience of my life and really was a dream come true._  
 _I know you have a lot of questions but I don’t have the ability to answer any of them._  
 _The only answer I have is that it was never anything wrong with you, please stop trying to find something within yourself that isn’t there._  
  
_I love you.  You’re my soulmate.  But I never intended on finding you here, in Los Santos, when I did._

_I wish we had found each other just a little later._

_I’m so sorry, Michael.  You’ll always be my soulmate._

_I hope that what they say about soulmates understanding each other, even in rough times, is true and that you can forgive me.  I’ll see you again one day, but for now, please don’t try to contact me._

_Love always,_  
 _Ray_  
 

\---

“ **The number you’re calling is no longer in service.** ”


End file.
